She was alone In a room full of friendly murderers Laughter reeking of mockery and... Bleeding betrayal
She was abused Far beyond mechanical repair However, there was no bruise That tainted her skin like charcoal kisses
She did not live With the pregnant pause of silence in a dark room Instead, she was confined by Their lies Cuffed down by soulless beings
Words shot at her, bullets poisoned by hatred Of what she "should be" But she's not Them Them who stand holding the trigger so boldly
No mercy ran from Their lips Lips chapped from too much harsh labour As They awarded Their efforts with her tears Content is how it felt for Them
But alas her sanity Stood back and watched Them Exhausted from the cuffs Defeated from the rounds fired
If one were to look at her now Eyes more distant Like a breath to a choke hold She carried on Alone
— Nanda Regine
From "Inside Her Roses"
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